BlogSpot Entry
Oct. 30th, 2002 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookofmirrorsIf this were LiveJournal instead of Blogger, and I were writing in Sarsen's style, my tagline would be:
"In which I have dinner with Death"
Of course, Death is exaggerated and inaccurate, and I actually had dinner and went driving with my ...what to call him... friend? companion?
Well, according to http://www.webster.edu/~corbetre/haiti/voodoo/listlwa.htm:
GHEDE
Ghede is the eternal figure in black, controlling the eternal crossroads at which everyone must someday cross over. His symbol is the cross upon a tomb.
Ghede is sort of to the underworld or afterlife what Legba is to life-- he who controls access. Ghede controls access to everything in the afterlife.
Ghede is also god of eroticism. Eroticism is beyond good and evil since it is inevitable. Ghede is neither delighted by eroticism, and certainly not shamed by it. If anything Ghede is amused by the universal presence of eroticism and humans' constant need to pretend that it is other than what it is.
When Ghede mounts someone he often singles out people who pretend to be aloof from eroticism. He ridicules them, embarrasses them, exposes them (in more ways than one.) He is especially hard on whites since they often have the puritanical sexual attitudes of western culture.
Ghede is also often called BARON SAMEDI. In this aspect he is DEATH.
He is the keeper of the cemetery and the primary contact with the dead. Anyone who would seek contact with the dead must first contact and solicit Ghede/Baron Samedi in the same way that Legba is contacted to cross over to the spirit world.
Ghede has a ravenous appetite for food and drink and doesn't mind manifesting them when he mounts someone.
Ghede is a clown, an interrupter, a coarse fellow. But he is history too. As keeper of the cemetery he has intimate contact with the dead. He knows what their plans were, what's going on in families, what the connections of things are. And he is quite generous with his information. Even when he is clowning or performing his erotic antics, if you can pull him aside and ask him a serious question you will get a serious and reliable answer.
Another of Ghede's great powers is as the protector of children. Ghede generally does not like to see children die. They need a full life. Thus he is the loa to go to when seeking help for a sick child.
Ghede has the power over zombies and decides whether or not people can be changed into animals. Any such black magic voodoo must seek the help of Baron Samedi/Ghede with these tasks.
Lastly, since Ghede is the lord of death, he is also the last resort for healing since he must decide whether to accept the sick person into the dead or allow them to recover.
....Well... I've found (what seem to me to be) better explanations in the past, but for now, that will do. I'm more interested in my experience right now than definitions.
Glenn has, for some time now, been having dreams in which he's with Maman Brigitte, who is Baron Samedi's wife/partner. (He called her "Ma Belle" [sp?] tonight.) The distinct impression he had was that he was as close to her in that world as he is to me in this world. In other words, that he/parts of him were the Baron. As Samhain has gotten closer, his connection to the Baron has grown stronger. His coven, recognizing this, has asked him to "play" the part of the Baron for the Samhain ritual, in which we are going to hold a wake for the May King and the May Queen. Everyone, including Glenn, fully expects him to be "ridden" during ritual. For those who don't know, that basically means for him to be taken over by the Baron Himself.
Well, we've been shopping for a proper costume for him, and we went to get his top hat today. His costume is basically complete. I'm calling South, and I also got myself a new dress for the occasion. It's black, with some red sequins on the front and on the arms. Should be perfect. :)
So, anyway, the Baron decides to show up early. While we're in a restaurant, eating. It went back and forth for a while, but having had some experience with people who "aren't themselves", I knew it wasn't Glenn.
I had a very enjoyable, mentally and emotionally provocative, and illuminating evening. He was speaking about wanting to take some of the blackberry brandy to honor Maman Brigitte at the ritual, since he didn't believe she would be coming there. I told him I was sorry that I couldn't bring her for him. He put up his hand, and said, "It's not your way" in a very matter-of-fact, but understanding way. Later in the car, I asked him what he meant by that. He said that I knew my path, and that that wasn't a part of it. I asked if my path excluded that, and he said that no, it didn't exclude me experiencing that (drawing down/being ridden), but that some people's paths lie in what they see, and some in what they do, and that my path lay in what I do.
I remember sitting in the car with him, my hand on his/Glenn's leg as it always is (I asked, since Glenn had told me earlier that touching someone while they were being ridden was like an insult, and could break the connection, which would NOT make the gods happy... he was very polite, and quietly praised me for asking, and said that, if asked, permission could be given, because they would be prepared for the touch, and the connection could more easily remain.). Anyway, I'm sitting there, and just feeling him there as we talked. I got this impression ...it's hard to explain. It was like being in a tomb, but in an open, warm, comfortable tomb, where it was completely safe and peaceful. I told him I liked the way he felt, and that it made me not fear death. He said that death was a door to another place, nothing more. He seemed a bit exasperated at this, as if he'd had to tell people this over and over again, and was wondering when we'd learn. I persisted a bit, and said that it felt like a place to rest, and he said, yes, it was that as well. He said something else I can't quite remember. To rest and remember, I think. He said that when the time came, I would be ready. I might not think I was, but I would be. That makes me wonder if I'll die suddenly, but that doesn't scare me as much as it used to. I can almost see myself hearing those reassuring words in my mind in my last few moments, and remembering, and not fearing. I remember laughing a little... I think it was when he told me that. It may have been something else. I don't remember. The whole thing, looking back, was kind of hazy... the rest of the world was perfectly clear, and I interacted with it fine, but when he left, there was a noticable difference. At any rate, either when he said that, or something else, I laughed a little, which was sort of a sob, although I don't think it came out that way. He commented on it - "You laugh instead of cry." It was dark, and he couldn't see the tears pouring down my face, so I simply said, "I do both."
Anyway, I got sidetracked. I got to thinking that, in my role as healer, as I mentioned in my past blog, one of the things I do, is take people's pain, hold it, and give it back to them as love... which was always there (and theirs) to begin with. I told Glenn (the Baron was still there, but had gone into the background, and was kinda talking to Glenn, and Glenn was relaying at this point, rather than the Baron speaking directly through Glenn) that it must be similar for the Baron... that he takes and transforms the sorrow and reqret that people think they have when they die, and keeps it safe for them, and gives it back as ...love? something else entirely? when they're ready to move on. I think this was the point that Glenn said that he wasn't Death, but he watched the crossroads... he was just as likely to watch you walk past, as to kick you to make you move faster, as to give you a glass of wine to savor and help you on your way. In the ritual, Glenn plays his role as the ferryman, so that seems to blend well with that. But later, he described the Baron's role as also being similar to what I saw, although I don't remember how he put it.
I do remember Glenn saying that the things that just make the Baron shake his head is the hypocrisy of people (although he didn't use that word). The preacher with the whore, who enjoys her pleasures at night, but denies it in the light of day - and worse yet, feels guilty about it. He said that ...damn... I can't remember how he put it... but basically, that we deny who we really are, and we should revel in it - good, bad, or indifferent. That struck me kinda hard. I could see that in myself, but in the opposite direction. I wasn't "sinning" at night at pretending to be "pure" in the morning. I was pure, and pretending to sin. I remember driving down Mansell, with tears streaming down my face, and saying that was what I did. "I try to make myself horrible and weak and ugly, and I'm NOT." That was a rather profound revelation for me. I think it was the first time I had that perspective. Before, I'd always been the ugly duckling, saying she was a swan, without really believing it. This time, I was the swan, appalled that I'd ever worn the ugly duckling suit, and wondering just what had possessed me to do it to begin with.
Wow... Anyone who knows me personally knows just how powerful that is.
Much later, on the way home, the words "It doesn't befit me" kept going through my head, with various endings.
"It doesn't befit me to be fat."
"It doesn't befit me to live in a filthy house."
"It doesn't befit me to be weak."
There are a lot of things that don't befit me. Glenn asked what I was going to do about it. That raised my defenses a little. I've been known to be stubborn about something *I* want, just because someone else wants it for me, so I end up doing something completely different than either of us want, just to spite them - and me. But I was able to quell that (for the most part) this time, and I said I was going to fix it.
And I will.
Something else he said (he in this case being a hybrid of the two, which was also happening off and on during the evening)... He was talking about my path, and said that it was easy for me to take my blade to others, but that it was hard to look in the mirror myself. And that I'd have to do that, every day, before I could (or perhaps it was in order to) truly follow my path.
"In which I have dinner with Death"
Of course, Death is exaggerated and inaccurate, and I actually had dinner and went driving with my ...what to call him... friend? companion?
Well, according to http://www.webster.edu/~corbetre/haiti/voodoo/listlwa.htm:
GHEDE
Ghede is the eternal figure in black, controlling the eternal crossroads at which everyone must someday cross over. His symbol is the cross upon a tomb.
Ghede is sort of to the underworld or afterlife what Legba is to life-- he who controls access. Ghede controls access to everything in the afterlife.
Ghede is also god of eroticism. Eroticism is beyond good and evil since it is inevitable. Ghede is neither delighted by eroticism, and certainly not shamed by it. If anything Ghede is amused by the universal presence of eroticism and humans' constant need to pretend that it is other than what it is.
When Ghede mounts someone he often singles out people who pretend to be aloof from eroticism. He ridicules them, embarrasses them, exposes them (in more ways than one.) He is especially hard on whites since they often have the puritanical sexual attitudes of western culture.
Ghede is also often called BARON SAMEDI. In this aspect he is DEATH.
He is the keeper of the cemetery and the primary contact with the dead. Anyone who would seek contact with the dead must first contact and solicit Ghede/Baron Samedi in the same way that Legba is contacted to cross over to the spirit world.
Ghede has a ravenous appetite for food and drink and doesn't mind manifesting them when he mounts someone.
Ghede is a clown, an interrupter, a coarse fellow. But he is history too. As keeper of the cemetery he has intimate contact with the dead. He knows what their plans were, what's going on in families, what the connections of things are. And he is quite generous with his information. Even when he is clowning or performing his erotic antics, if you can pull him aside and ask him a serious question you will get a serious and reliable answer.
Another of Ghede's great powers is as the protector of children. Ghede generally does not like to see children die. They need a full life. Thus he is the loa to go to when seeking help for a sick child.
Ghede has the power over zombies and decides whether or not people can be changed into animals. Any such black magic voodoo must seek the help of Baron Samedi/Ghede with these tasks.
Lastly, since Ghede is the lord of death, he is also the last resort for healing since he must decide whether to accept the sick person into the dead or allow them to recover.
....Well... I've found (what seem to me to be) better explanations in the past, but for now, that will do. I'm more interested in my experience right now than definitions.
Glenn has, for some time now, been having dreams in which he's with Maman Brigitte, who is Baron Samedi's wife/partner. (He called her "Ma Belle" [sp?] tonight.) The distinct impression he had was that he was as close to her in that world as he is to me in this world. In other words, that he/parts of him were the Baron. As Samhain has gotten closer, his connection to the Baron has grown stronger. His coven, recognizing this, has asked him to "play" the part of the Baron for the Samhain ritual, in which we are going to hold a wake for the May King and the May Queen. Everyone, including Glenn, fully expects him to be "ridden" during ritual. For those who don't know, that basically means for him to be taken over by the Baron Himself.
Well, we've been shopping for a proper costume for him, and we went to get his top hat today. His costume is basically complete. I'm calling South, and I also got myself a new dress for the occasion. It's black, with some red sequins on the front and on the arms. Should be perfect. :)
So, anyway, the Baron decides to show up early. While we're in a restaurant, eating. It went back and forth for a while, but having had some experience with people who "aren't themselves", I knew it wasn't Glenn.
I had a very enjoyable, mentally and emotionally provocative, and illuminating evening. He was speaking about wanting to take some of the blackberry brandy to honor Maman Brigitte at the ritual, since he didn't believe she would be coming there. I told him I was sorry that I couldn't bring her for him. He put up his hand, and said, "It's not your way" in a very matter-of-fact, but understanding way. Later in the car, I asked him what he meant by that. He said that I knew my path, and that that wasn't a part of it. I asked if my path excluded that, and he said that no, it didn't exclude me experiencing that (drawing down/being ridden), but that some people's paths lie in what they see, and some in what they do, and that my path lay in what I do.
I remember sitting in the car with him, my hand on his/Glenn's leg as it always is (I asked, since Glenn had told me earlier that touching someone while they were being ridden was like an insult, and could break the connection, which would NOT make the gods happy... he was very polite, and quietly praised me for asking, and said that, if asked, permission could be given, because they would be prepared for the touch, and the connection could more easily remain.). Anyway, I'm sitting there, and just feeling him there as we talked. I got this impression ...it's hard to explain. It was like being in a tomb, but in an open, warm, comfortable tomb, where it was completely safe and peaceful. I told him I liked the way he felt, and that it made me not fear death. He said that death was a door to another place, nothing more. He seemed a bit exasperated at this, as if he'd had to tell people this over and over again, and was wondering when we'd learn. I persisted a bit, and said that it felt like a place to rest, and he said, yes, it was that as well. He said something else I can't quite remember. To rest and remember, I think. He said that when the time came, I would be ready. I might not think I was, but I would be. That makes me wonder if I'll die suddenly, but that doesn't scare me as much as it used to. I can almost see myself hearing those reassuring words in my mind in my last few moments, and remembering, and not fearing. I remember laughing a little... I think it was when he told me that. It may have been something else. I don't remember. The whole thing, looking back, was kind of hazy... the rest of the world was perfectly clear, and I interacted with it fine, but when he left, there was a noticable difference. At any rate, either when he said that, or something else, I laughed a little, which was sort of a sob, although I don't think it came out that way. He commented on it - "You laugh instead of cry." It was dark, and he couldn't see the tears pouring down my face, so I simply said, "I do both."
Anyway, I got sidetracked. I got to thinking that, in my role as healer, as I mentioned in my past blog, one of the things I do, is take people's pain, hold it, and give it back to them as love... which was always there (and theirs) to begin with. I told Glenn (the Baron was still there, but had gone into the background, and was kinda talking to Glenn, and Glenn was relaying at this point, rather than the Baron speaking directly through Glenn) that it must be similar for the Baron... that he takes and transforms the sorrow and reqret that people think they have when they die, and keeps it safe for them, and gives it back as ...love? something else entirely? when they're ready to move on. I think this was the point that Glenn said that he wasn't Death, but he watched the crossroads... he was just as likely to watch you walk past, as to kick you to make you move faster, as to give you a glass of wine to savor and help you on your way. In the ritual, Glenn plays his role as the ferryman, so that seems to blend well with that. But later, he described the Baron's role as also being similar to what I saw, although I don't remember how he put it.
I do remember Glenn saying that the things that just make the Baron shake his head is the hypocrisy of people (although he didn't use that word). The preacher with the whore, who enjoys her pleasures at night, but denies it in the light of day - and worse yet, feels guilty about it. He said that ...damn... I can't remember how he put it... but basically, that we deny who we really are, and we should revel in it - good, bad, or indifferent. That struck me kinda hard. I could see that in myself, but in the opposite direction. I wasn't "sinning" at night at pretending to be "pure" in the morning. I was pure, and pretending to sin. I remember driving down Mansell, with tears streaming down my face, and saying that was what I did. "I try to make myself horrible and weak and ugly, and I'm NOT." That was a rather profound revelation for me. I think it was the first time I had that perspective. Before, I'd always been the ugly duckling, saying she was a swan, without really believing it. This time, I was the swan, appalled that I'd ever worn the ugly duckling suit, and wondering just what had possessed me to do it to begin with.
Wow... Anyone who knows me personally knows just how powerful that is.
Much later, on the way home, the words "It doesn't befit me" kept going through my head, with various endings.
"It doesn't befit me to be fat."
"It doesn't befit me to live in a filthy house."
"It doesn't befit me to be weak."
There are a lot of things that don't befit me. Glenn asked what I was going to do about it. That raised my defenses a little. I've been known to be stubborn about something *I* want, just because someone else wants it for me, so I end up doing something completely different than either of us want, just to spite them - and me. But I was able to quell that (for the most part) this time, and I said I was going to fix it.
And I will.
Something else he said (he in this case being a hybrid of the two, which was also happening off and on during the evening)... He was talking about my path, and said that it was easy for me to take my blade to others, but that it was hard to look in the mirror myself. And that I'd have to do that, every day, before I could (or perhaps it was in order to) truly follow my path.
